


The Hunter

by xtricks



Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-03
Updated: 2010-09-03
Packaged: 2017-10-11 11:07:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/111736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xtricks/pseuds/xtricks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knew very well why Ray had decided to 'take a stroll' in the long summer twilight and knew very well that he should not follow. The knowledge did nothing to stop him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hunter

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Hunter's Moon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/111738) by [xtricks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xtricks/pseuds/xtricks). 
  * Inspired by [Underground](https://archiveofourown.org/works/111741) by [xtricks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xtricks/pseuds/xtricks). 



> Originally posted 5/14/2006. Prompted by the old due South Generator: _due South Plot Generator: Fraser is in the woods, waiting for something._ I wrote three different stories using the same prompt.

It was so purely inappropriate that Fraser was blushing with embarrassment even as he let his feet take him north of the half-built cabin, towards the tiny creek bordering his property. He knew very well why Ray had decided to 'take a stroll' in the long summer twilight and knew very well that he should not follow. The knowledge did nothing to stop him.

He moved silently over the thick carpet of shed pine needles, taking care to avoid crackling branches, even though he doubted that Ray would notice any unusual noises in the--to him--mysterious woods of Fraser's home. The secrecy was as much for Fraser's sake as Ray's. He had to be sure that Ray never knew, never suspected what Fraser was capable of. He heard the sound of the creek well before he saw it and struck off to a familiar rise in the land that would give him a good view of his target. He suspected where Ray's stroll would take him; not too far from the cabin and someplace where the last warmth of the sun would linger and, when he topped the brushy slope, Fraser discovered that he had guessed correctly. Below him, sprawled on the brief lived alpine grasses, lay Ray Vecchio.

Fraser froze in the shadows of the woods, waiting.

He could hear Ray's voice, grumbling to himself about roughing it and the things he did for his friends as he unzipped his coat and spread it over the grass. His voice faded into a slightly embarrassed cough as Fraser watched with held breath, wondering of Ray would ... Ray glanced around, head bent nervously as he fiddled with the zipper of his pants. Fraser sighed, echoing Ray's sigh, as he heard the carrying sound of a zipper going down and the clink of Ray's inappropriate belt being undone. Ray would.

This time, unlike last time when Fraser had stumbled on Ray accidentally, Ray stripped completely naked as if he were going to do nothing besides take a bath in the glacially cold stream. Instead of wading into the water, Ray lay on the pile of his clothes, stretching like a greyhound under the last of the sunlight. He was impossibly alien in the Canadian pine forest; lean and dusky, a long body meant for hot Mediterranean days and languid, sultry nights. Not feline but rather some strange tropical bird, flown too far north to a land hostile to his kind. Fraser twitched with the impulse to cover him, to shelter him with his own heavy, cold adapted body but he dared not move, was too cowardly to reveal himself and too desperate to leave. He could only watch and wait.

Ray grumbled something again, like an irritated raven, swatting at a harmless bit of seasonal grass as he wiggled into the nest he'd made. He closed his eyes, turning his face to the sky as if for a nap but Fraser knew this was not the case. After a moment, Ray's hand stole across his own chest, stroking through the nap of dark hair on his skin. He rubbed his own belly and, even from here, Fraser could see the heavy, half erect length of his penis. It was not a nap Ray was seeking, not a nap Fraser wanted to watch over.

Ray touched himself for some minutes, eyes tightly shut, hands unexpectedly sensual. Fraser hadn't anticipated the way Ray sought pleasure for himself, approaching his own body with roundabout caresses and inventive explorations. Fraser's body twinged in response as Ray sucked two fingers into his mouth then rolled a nipple in his fingers. By now, his penis was lying impatiently in the crease of his thigh, large and heavy for such a slender man. It made Fraser's mouth water and curse his own fears as well as Ray's staunch heterosexuality. Ray Vecchio loved Fraser like a brother--and nothing more.

Fraser loved Ray Vecchio like a brother--and more.

Finally, finally, when Fraser could hardly stand it himself, Ray reached down to take his erection in hand. Ray's groan carried in the air, deep and resonant, while Fraser clutched at his belt until the leather buckled and did not touch himself in turn. He didn't want to miss a precious moment of this stolen delight. Ray rubbed his own belly, in time to the slow pull of his hand. His long thighs tensed rhythmically, even his toes curled when he stroked a thumb over the gleaming head of his penis. Fraser watched that and longed to know what Ray tasted like there, where he was wet and leaking.

Ray was a man who knew his own body. When he drew up a knee so he could roll his balls in his free hand, two fingers slipping down to press against his perineum, Fraser stifled a grunt against his wrist, sweat prickling under his shirt. He watched Ray Vecchio arch his neck, grit his teeth and come with a long, shuddering convulsion. Semen trailed visibly over his chest and Fraser lifted his head, breathing deep, imagining he could scent it on the air. The ache of his own desires nearly goaded him out of his hiding place; Fraser longed to kiss Ray's slack mouth, breath in the warm scent of his skin, cradle the softening length of his penis against his palm. He dared not. He could not. If there was any worse betrayal than Victoria, it was this theft of Vecchio's private passions. Of all the secrets Fraser could not share with his more-than-brother, he knew this was first among them. He could only watch as Ray washed in the stream with teeth-chattering-complaints and steal away before Ray finished dressing, making sure to be back at the cabin with a book in one hand and a mug of tea in the other; Ray's uptight, innocent friend.

END (5/14/06)


End file.
